“The Storm”

Standing here, I inhale the sweet, cleansing,
intoxicating smell of the rain.

I ponder.
Why do I love the storm?

Wind swirls around me,
tousling my hair,
shaking the leaves of the giant palm tree overhead.

I’m reminded.
My favorite kind of weather
is a storm.

The more violent the tempest,
the more alive
(yet at peace) I feel.

I wonder.
What does that say about me?

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